FOUR DAYS. Clearly, this daily numbering is going to get old. But, FOUR DAYS. I cannot quite believe it.
1. I did not go on a beach vacation until I was 28 years old.
I was born with genes that make it a little bit impossible for me to relax. It feels comfortable to work with a packed schedule and no wiggle room with lots of demands. I clean my bathroom for fun. Washing dishes is delightful, as is laundry. Busy is good.
I had done plenty of traveling by the time I was 28. But every place was to a destination where I had a plan and an agenda and a stack of places the I Needed to visit. Not much time for relaxing, although I will admit that the one traveling companion I had who made me get up at 5:15 am to walk 4.5 miles to the train station for a day long trip with 8 hours on a train was EVEN A LITTLE MUCH FOR ME.
But then I was invited to a girlfriend's parent's time share in Mexico and it was like MAGIC. I had two choices for my daytime activity: beach? Or POOL? Did I want to make myself a steak salad or have someone cook for me at the on-site restaurants. Yes, I WOULD like a margarita!
Since then, I usually rent a car so that I can get around to take pictures and experience the location. But on NO schedule with FEW expectations. I highly recommend this variety of traveling.
2. I have less hair on one side of my head than the other.'
Significantly so. To the point that if you simply place your hands on my skull you will notice that one side is sufficiently padded and the other side is "oops, you may be knocked over if a pigeon poops there." I'm not sure why or how or when it happened, but it's true. One hairdresser tried to pretend it was a "thing" that people just didn't know about (kind of how "everyone" has one larger foot?) except… I think she was messing with me. I have never met anyone else with this ailment.
My superpower is inadequate hair and clogged drains.
(PS. THIS bullet point explains yesterday's post title. I LOST the original and had to re-write and MISSED the tidbit. QUALITY CONTROL was OBVIOUSLY taking one of those DO NOTHING BEACH VACATIONS.)
3. I'm really, really good in an emergency.
Considering my use of capitalization and emphasis, you might think that I'm really animated. And you would be right!
But not in emergencies. In emergencies, I am different. I will calm you down and get you help and stay with you so you will not panic. I will not be grossed out or overwhelmed or faint. I will be EFFICIENT! And SOOTHING.
I mean, don't HAVE an emergency, seriously. But… you know.
(I am really a nurturer by nature. I want to HELP you. And make things BETTER. LET'S TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING SO YOU FEEL NICE AGAIN. )
4. I have two namesake items: Carla-bombs and Carla-Mel Squares.
The first is the result of having my first car bomb on a grad school trip to New York City. I posit that I did not EVER hit TRUE DRUNKENESS that evening. I had approximately thirteen.
(Also, I think perhaps no one calls them car bombs anymore? Like, it's offensive or something? I am not sure…)
The second is the world's most delightful treat, which I make every year for the holidays. If you're British or know someone who is British or just like… Britain, you might know of these: caramel squares, usually eaten along with tea. (Or, if you're me, shoved into my mouth at any point during the day because DELICIOUS.)
Not many people know of them here, so when I started making them they became a little famous and one thing led to another and, well, SIGNATURE DESSERT. It is not so bad to have one of these, especially when they're quite easy to whip up and people act as though you've gifted them gold bars upon receipt. I suggest that you limit the supply of your signature dessert because I'm pretty sure 95% of the reason people act as though these are GIFTS FROM HEAVEN is the scarcity.
I traveled to St. Thomas a year or two ago to shoot a wedding. We happened to arrive on the last day of Carnaval and I was caught off guard by an amazing street parade downtown. These pictures are some of my favorites, particularly the second shot where you can see the policeman capturing the moment.